prose

He watched her through the spotting scope as his practiced hand deftly screwed the huge heavy barrel onto the lighter receiver for once the .222 cartridge was chambered, the remainder of the rifle except the two-stage trigger was superfluous. He languidly watched her examine each breast thoroughly then more rigorously, as she aroused herself and he found he also grew and extended. Why were his female subjects all so erotic, not allowing himself to remember it was always this way.

Many exterminators got erections while performing their job. This client was especially intelligent and that excited him more. She had been a part of Interpol and Mussed for years. Time to go, his boss had ordered. She was hard won and seemed to enjoy her trysts immensely.

He has seen her on the street a year ago before she became a target and flicked a warm dazzling smile at him as she walked lithely down the street in her trim, finely tuned body. He knew not her deadly knowledge of hand to hand combat, the signs blinded to him by his desire. Every muscle was spring- loaded and cocked……every one.

He remembered back to that next day wondering why killing a woman was like fucking her. Perhaps subduing and the ultimate penetration. She had been at the same place the next day and he spoke to her.

They had ended at her place after a five-mile run together and her muscled legs shone with fine perspiration like a thorough-bred black stallion. She was very black with huge eyes that somehow seemed innocent. Her features were not particularly Negroid except the full lips. Her teeth were small and even.

She bit his erect nipples with those teeth sending glowing washes of warmth to his groin. Her breasts were mostly muscle with unusually long blacker nipples against puffy huge areole. His sucking evoked a low mewling sound not unlike a nursing kitten. She was so wet her lower shorts were soaked and moisture ran down her legs. There was no genital foreplay, just pushing aside her panties and pushing inward, and her muscles sucked him in hungrily.

As he remembered, he had to have her one more time. He met her in the street next day and they ran and fucked.

As he exploded in her he barely heard a pufftt! of air and blood flowed from both ears at once and he started to scream shit!!!!!!!!!!!!! and fell limp in her arms still inside. her. She gave him a light peck on the forehead and eased him down and she knew she was the best he had ever had.

He lives in his own little world, they said but little
Measured by the limits of his imagination is relative
How little is the highest mountain and the deepest ocean?
How many light years is infinity and how deep is fathomless ?

What are the bounds of the restless soul living timelessly
Before the beginning and past the ending, while the mists of
Obscurity lift to reveal another idea and truth new to follow?
With no rest, because it is at rest that he’s at his very best.

Lying on awakening as the dreams of the darkness meet day
While the strains of the distant chords waft and pulsate, music
To sleep by becomes music to awaken by and the dance of stars
Music to exist by as the symphony of the universe swells, retreats

Music, the voice of the gods we offer as prayers to heaven when we,
The creators humbled by our own creativity compose the anthems of
Our emotions as powerful as the waves of the solar winds that wail
Moan and drone the distant songs that harmoniously blend in tone

Does a star, a falling tree, explode soundlessly when we aren’t around
Is a black hole a silent suck of all things in sight and does a universe
Whistle tonelessly as it contemplates it’s menial existence lost in the
Multi-dimensional and multi-reality, playing cat and mouse insanity

How many existences co-exist that light my nights, darken my days
Slipping me cheat sheets into my consciousness, the unexplained new
Words and the new reality that hits in a blinding flash of synaptic,
Illumination, across the network of my mind winking nanno fireflies

Glimmers of hope and fractal moments of immortality that hint to the
Collective moments of our existence and the celestial swarm of our
Memories and oneness that we must re-assimilate and know the magic
Our song, our cry, and our exultation of freedom in our humanity.

Where are we as a species in our theology? Whether you will admit it or not, our theology has a wide direct effect on our survival and our social interactions. It has a direct effect on our behavior of solidifying ourselves as a world wide spiritual community

For spiritual growth to occur we have to become. If you are closed in your beliefs’ and not willing to change or if you think it blasphemous to question the norm and doctrine of your theology this article will anger you. We stepped through the gates of Eden many centuries ago coming and going at will, willing to accept the pain of our self discoveries.

In the article The Search for God, I suggested that my perception of God was a limitless boundless force that permeates everything. I suggested that we collectively were a part of god. I suggested that god was not an entity but was i n the process of being. Can you support the idea that god is a force that is dynamic and changing and is in the process of becoming?

Is not everything we are aware of in the process of becoming? The universe itself is expanding, coalescing into suns and planets and exploding in sun deaths, disappearing into black holes.

The earth groans and heaves, destroying and rebuilding new land and the sea plays a part in the process. Hurricanes and cyclones refine the process as well as floods and man. There is nothing we are aware of that is not changing. Creation is not yet over.

If we, god, the process of being are also in the process of becoming, this act of becoming signifies that we have inherent a capacity, a reservoir, a flexibility that is limited only by our imagination. It suggests a maturation that is not directionless but flexible. It suggests a never-ending process or metamorphosis into another entity, a force or an idea. It would suggest, in ourselves, a new spirituality.

I think it safe to say god, as a part of the natural process is eternally evolving as we are and perhaps that evolving will include simplification, not complication. Perhaps it will be enough to grasp the being in all things. Perhaps it will come when we discover the common denominator in all things. Perhaps god, the common denominator, the most minute unit of all, the building block of everything is a presence controlled by what, the real unifier, the choreographer, the maestro of the symphony and dance of the stars.